Saturday, April 29, 2006

The Edge of the Storm

Denny opened the pantry door yesterday to put away newly purchased groceries. He unwittingly released an avalanche of cans and bottles; a shelf bracket had been knocked out in our bouncing, jarring trip along I-10 in Louisiana.

We had gritted our teeth and watched our side view mirrors in dismay as we hit sunken patches of concrete that caused the rear end of the fifth wheel to ride like a horse on a carousel and cursed the state that allowed its highways to fall into such disrepair. Such is the attitude of someone who doesn't live in the state and has only seen the horror of Hurricane Katrina on the news. Mentally, we're aware that all funds need to go to rebuilding the towns and lives of the people on the southern coast but for the moment we're watching all we own bounce around like a Mexican jumping bean.

Traveling along I-10 you only see random signs of the violence of the storm; areas where most of the roofs are wearing ponchos of blue tarps, huge metal pedestals devoid of their billboard platforms, 40 feet tall street light poles laying parallel to the roadway and bedsprings and other detritus clogging the marshes and water channels. A shrimp boat lay next to a channel, sitting abandoned on the far side of a stand of trees leaving us to wonder how it managed to get over the trees and yet remain so close to the water as if it had simply high-jumped its way there. All this was miles from the major destruction of New Orleans and Biloxi.

And so we stopped complaining about the roads-after all, we at least have a home to worry about.

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